Backstory Time
by Shwoo
Summary: Snippets of Perry's life before he was assigned to the Flynn-Fletchers.
1. Early

There was no more food. He was hungry and there was no more food. He knew where to find more, though. It was outside the universe. He rubbed the sharp thing on his bill against the walls of the universe until he broke through. With some difficulty, he crawled outside.

The outside was vast. He walked two steps and didn't run into anything. He walked another three steps and ran into something much harder than the walls of his universe.

Where was the food? It had to be somewhere.

He turned away from the hard thing and walked until he bumped into something soft. That wasn't food. Outside food oozed from something warm and soft, and this thing was cold.

Eventually, he came to a hole leading to another, even vaster space. Maybe the food was out there.

It was hot through the hole. It made him want to sleep. But he wanted food more.

Something hit him from behind and suddenly he was flying through the air. He landed hard, struggled to his feet, and kept walking. He had to keep walking until he found food.

.

Major Monogram walked down the street whistling to himself. For once, he felt great. He'd had his doubts when he'd first been put in charge of an agency full of animals, but they'd turned out to be extremely competent. In fact, he sometimes joked that they were going to steal his job, to hide his fear that an animal would steal his job.

He'd just got a raise, the agents were taking care of anything he threw at them - life was good.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something tiny and pink twitching on the sidewalk.

"What the-?" He ran over and bent down. It was some sort of animal. He thought it was probably a baby rat, but he wasn't sure. Most baby mammals looked more or less the same, but for some reason, they didn't like it when he got their species wrong. He was doing his best.

He poked the creature gently, and recoiled. "Ugh!" It was all wet and sticky! Like a... like a newborn.

A newborn! What a great find! If he was lucky, he'd get a recruit out of this. It was vital to get to them young.

Major Monogram carefully picked the creature up and held it flat on his palm. He wasn't so good with caring for baby animals, at least until they learned English and were toilet trained, but he'd been to a seminar once that had warned against putting them in pockets. Something about fragility and suffocation. Instead, he carried the animal back to his car and laid it on the passenger's seat.

He took the animal to Dr Gatti, the OWCA's vet, who immediately began poking and prodding at it.

"Is it gonna be okay?" said Major Monogram, when he couldn't stand the suspense anymore.

Dr Gatti ignored him and kept looking the animal over. Finally she said, "It's a he, and he's starving. He's lucky you came along when you did, Francis."

"N... Not in front of a patient," Major Monogram sputtered.

"He's just a hatchling," said Dr Gatti impatiently. "He can't hear us."

"Uh..." said Major Monogram, staring at the animal. "I think that's a mammal. It's got the... pink, and the... grossness."

Dr Gatti began searching through a row of cabinets. "He's a platypus. They're mammals that hatch from eggs, sweat milk, and have poisonous barbs on the back of their legs."

Even one of those things on its own would have been great in an agent, but all of them together? He was sold. "That settles it!" said Major Monogram. "He'll be our newest recruit!" Aware of Dr Gatti glaring at him, he added "Once he... Once he... recovers."

She was always acting like she disapproved of everything the agency did. She was such a joker sometimes.

.

The platypus woke up on something soft and comfortable. He wasn't hungry, so he went back to sleep.

.

He was a bit hungry the next time he woke up, so he went looking for food. He didn't get very far before running into something that was full of holes, which were too small to let him through. He went in another direction, and ran into the same thing. Confused, he followed the holey wall, but never found its end. He did find something warm and soft, so he sucked at it, and food came out.

He went to sleep again.

.

After many cycles of sleeping and eating, something different happened. He opened his eyes. Frightened, he shut them again. Then, slowly, he tried opening just one eye. It took a long time, but eventually he could keep his eyes wide open without cringing. Gradually, he began to understand what he was seeing.

He could see through the holes in the walls. They were more hole than wall. Inside, everything always looked the same, but outside, things were constantly changing. The outside was full of movement. He couldn't understand what it meant, so it didn't matter.

One day something moved right up close to him, swung the closest part of the wall away, and lifted him up. The platypus didn't mind. He'd already eaten.

The thing holding him was furry and brown, with dark brown stripes. There were splotches of pink and green and black and white, but most of the thing was organised into brown and dark brown. There was another different brown at the top of it.

The thing carried him a long way, then put him down with a lot of other things that moved around and smelled of life. The platypus poked one of them, and got a scratch on his bill. Whimpering, he backed away. He'd keep away from the moving things for now.

The room was big. There were a lot of moving things and stationary things. There was also a window on one side of the room that showed a lot of moving things. The room was noisy.

He found a few smooth, brightly coloured things that didn't move or smell. He poked them. They moved. They moved because he'd poked them. The realisation intrigued him. He poked them again, and again they moved.

Interesting.

.

Eventually, he was taken back to the small place with the food. After he'd slept, he was taken to the noisy place again. This repeated every day. Eventually, the platypus learned that the moving living things were other animals like him. They weren't platypuses, though. The noise was coming from the window. The window showed a lot of different things, and buzzed with electricity when the platypus got close to it.

There were many things on the floor. The one that interested the platypus the most was something that looked like a window, except it was moveable. When he looked into it from above, he saw something yellow and teal. The yellow looked like the yellow of his bill and the teal looked like the teal of his fur. Was there another him in the window? He didn't know what he looked like, but he'd never seen anything that looked like him.

When he wasn't puzzling over the window, he liked to play with the brightly coloured blocks. He discovered if he put them on top of each other, curled his front paw around the bottom block, and pulled, all the blocks would fall down. They only stayed up if there was something beneath them.

He discovered more things every day.

.

One night, the platypus couldn't sleep. He lay in his cage, staring at the darkened room and wondering what it was like out there. He was never allowed out unescorted. He pushed against the door a few times, but it didn't budge. There was something on the other side keeping it from opening. The platypus reached a paw through the mesh on the cage door and felt around until he found something that moved. He just had to move it this way, and...

The cage swung open. The platypus jumped out and looked over at the door at one end of the room. That was the way to the big room with the toys and the television. At the other end of the room was another door, which he'd never been near. Light shone from the crack underneath.

The familiar door was opened by pushing, but this one wouldn't budge. It had a round thing on the front. It looked like one of the toys he played with that only moved when he twisted the round thing, but bigger. So he jumped up and grabbed the round thing in his front paws, twisting it around.

It slowly swung inwards, and the platypus walked through into a flickering light as bright as day. Once his eyes had adjusted, he could see that he was in a long corridor, with a lot more doors at the sides. There were so many doors that he didn't know where to explore first.

There were windows on the doors, and the platypus could see that many of the rooms beyond were dark. He knew that were was a way to light the darkened areas, but he didn't know what it was.

One of the rooms was bright.

Cautiously, the platypus crept up to the lit door and nudged it. It didn't move. Obviously it was one of the doors he needed to jump up on. So he grabbed the round thing, and the door opened inward with what felt like a painfully loud creak.

"What was that?"

That was human speech. He didn't understand it, but he knew what it was. There were humans in there. Aware that he probably shouldn't be where he was, the platypus let go of the round thing and hid behind the door.

"I thought I closed that door," said the voice that had spoken before.

"Maybe you didn't close it all the way," said another voice, higher than the first.

The platypus stayed in his hiding spot. He couldn't hear any footsteps. That meant that the humans weren't interested in him. He wondered whether he should explore this room, or one of the darkened ones.

"You do realise this is a top-secret government facility?" said the deeper voice.

"But I passed all the background checks!" said the higher voice.

The platypus decided to get a closer look, and carefully made his way inside.

"I... I don't know if we're allowed to have minors in here..." said the deeper voice. "Other than the trainees, of course."

"You said yourself you were short-staffed," said the higher voice. "I can _help_."

Now the platypus could see the speakers. They were sitting at a table. One of them was wearing green and was facing away from him. One of them was wearing white and facing towards him.

"Look," said the human dressed in green, who was the one with the deeper voice. "You're just too young, our... insurance won't cover you. Should you even be out so late?"

"Aw, don't worry about that," said the human dressed in white. "My mom's picking me up."

The platypus crept closer. He didn't think the humans had seen him. They were looking at each other.

"Hmm..." said the green-clothed human, rubbing his chin. "We do need more people... _Professional_ people..."

"I can be professional!" said the white-clothed human. "Just give me a chance."

The platypus crept closer towards the table, and accidentally brushed against the white-clothed human's leg.

The human yelled and fell off his chair.

The other human leaned over. "What the- You shouldn't be out here!" he said, picking up up the platypus.

The platypus went limp, trying his best to seem innocent.

The human who'd fallen picked himself up and said "What is that thing?" His voice sounded frightened or upset. The platypus wasn't good at telling the difference.

"Well, obviously he's a... platypus," said the human who was holding him. "I don't know how he got out. He's... practically younger than you are."

The white clothed human gasped and said "It's one of your agents!"

"He will be, if he passes his training," said the green-clothed human. He held the platypus up to his face. "I think someone needs to go to bed."

"But I'm not tired!" said the white-clothed human.

"Not you!" said the green-clothed human. He pointed at the platypus. "Him! You wait here."

"Can't I go too?" said the white-clothed human.

"Stay where you are," said the green-clothed human, and carried the platypus out the door and back into the room with the cages. He put the platypus inside his cage and said "Hm, someone must have forgotten to lock it." He manipulated the door so that it wouldn't open again.

Annoyed, the platypus changed it back. He wanted to explore.

"Hey!" said the human, making it closed again.

The platypus made it open.

This went on for a while, until the human jabbed at the platypus with something sharp that stung him. A few seconds later, the platypus began to feel drowsy. Then he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the thing keeping the door closed had changed, and he couldn't open it anymore.


	2. Middle

The platypus absently stacked a block on top of another block. He was beginning to lose interest in the toys; he much preferred the television. He understand what it was and what it did now. He understood a lot of things. Sometimes, the television tried to teach him things that he already knew, and that was getting as dull as the toys, but at the moment it was showing an action movie. The platypus liked action movies. They were exciting. They made him happy.

He didn't think he'd seen this one before. It was good.

He heard human footsteps behind him. He didn't care until suddenly, he was lifted into the air. The platypus struggled, chattering. It wasn't time to go back to his cage. The movie wasn't even over. He'd seen other animals get picked up during the day, and most of the time they didn't return.

"Calm down, you can watch it later," the human told him. She was tall and wore purple.

She carried him into another room that smelt funny.

"I'm Dr Gatti," said the human. "I'm going to run some tests to determine whether you're ready for training."

The platypus nodded to show that he understood, though he didn't, really. Training? Training for what? What sort of training?

The first test was what Dr Gatti called a vision test. She make him look at some human writing on the wall. The writing got smaller the further down the wall it was, until it was too small to see. The platypus worried that he was going to have to read it, which he couldn't do at all, but it turned out that all he had to do was look at the letters, and then point them out on a piece of paper.

She then asked him a set of yes or no questions. Some were easy, some were hard, some he didn't understand. He did the best he could.

The tests went on. There was a hearing test, a spatial reasoning test, whatever that was, and then she told him to lie down. She squeezed his front leg

really hard for a while, then stabbed it with a needle to get his blood. The platypus didn't know why she needed his blood, but he let her take it.

Then he had to run on a treadmill. He liked that. He didn't get to run very often. Most of the time he had to walk, or he'd bump into something.

While he ran, Dr Gatti said "You know, you are very lucky to be alive."

The platypus didn't know what that meant. All he could remember was being in his cage at night and the playpen during the day. Neither seemed to be particularly life-threatening.

"You weren't even a day old when Fra- when Major Monogram found you unconscious on the sidewalk."

He didn't remember ever being on a sidewalk. He also didn't remember being a day old, but he guessed he'd have to have hatched at some point.

"There was a dead platypus nearby. It... It was probably your mother. I'm sorry."

The platypus tried to feel sad about that, but he couldn't. It didn't feel real. His life was there, not on some sidewalk he couldn't remember.

.

After the tests, the platypus had to wait in a small room with a television in the wall. The platypus wondered what it was for. Was it another test? Was he

going to have to remember what it said? He couldn't think of any other reason for there to be a television there.

It was showing a boring educational program about colours, but the platypus still tried his best to concentrate on what was happening.

After a while, Dr Gatti returned. She didn't say anything about the TV. She just said "Good news. You can begin your training now."

The platypus thought she sounded a bit sarcastic.

Dr Gatti picked him up and took him to another corridor. "This is your room," she told him, putting him down in front of a small, platypus-sized door.

The platypus looked at her, then went inside. The room was bigger than his cage, big enough for him to rear up on his hind legs, though it wasn't quite high enough for a human. There was nothing in the room but a small desk and a sleeping basket. He curled up in the basket to test its softness, and soon went to sleep.

.

He was woken up by a knocking sound. Confused, he stood up, then remembered where he was. He glanced at the door. It was opaque, but he was pretty sure it wasn't locked like his cage door had been. He kind of missed his cage, but he didn't miss the lock.

He opened the door. There was a human standing there, clutching a clipboard. He looked like late at night.

"Are you the new recruit?" said the human.

Recruit. The platypus liked the sound of that. He nodded.

"Okay, follow me," said the human.

The platypus left the room and followed the human down the corridor.

The human looked back at him. "Hey... You're the baby platypus from the night I broke in... I mean, volunteered, aren't you?"

The platypus looked at him blankly. The human did look familiar, but he didn't know where he'd seen him before.

"Wow, you've grown," said the human. "You were just this long back then!"

He held his hands close together.

"This is so cool," continued the human. "It's my first day too! My guidance counsellor always said I was best suited to espionage or working with animals."

The platypus didn't really understand, but the human seemed to be looking for some sort of acknowledgement, so he nodded his head.

The human stopped abruptly at a door. "Well, here we are," he said. "See you round!"

He walked away, and the the platypus nudged the door open. He was glad to see that it didn't have a doorknob. They were hard to open.

There was another vaguely familiar looking human inside. This one wore green. He was sitting in a chair. There was a smaller chair in front of him. "Ah, there you are," he said. "Take a seat." He indicated the smaller chair.

The platypus stared at him, then at the seat. Gingerly, he sat down. He wasn't exactly sure what to do with his tail. No matter he held it, it was still uncomfortable.

"Welcome to your orientation," said the human. "I'm Major Monogram, and I'll be your boss if you complete your training. That's right, I asked for you specially! You're a real survivor, do you know that?"

That name sounded familiar... Of course it did, Dr Gatti had mentioned it earlier.

The human started to chuckle. "And breaking out your cage last month... What a great stunt!"

The platypus was beginning to wonder if all these humans had got him confused with someone else. He never had any idea what they were talking about. Besides, he couldn't break out of his cage. It had a padlock on it.

Major Monogram stopped laughing and cleared his throat a couple of times. "Uh, anyway, do you know what this facility does?"

The platypus thought. Obviously they took care of him, fed him and gave him somewhere to sleep. And they showed him movies. Was that what the human was talking about? Was he supposed to know what they did?

Fortunately, Major Monogram answered for him. "We train secret agents and sent them out into the field to protect the Tri-State Area, and the world!"

That sounded good. All the platypus's favourite movies had secret agents in them. He wondered if he'd get a chance to meet any of the agents in this facility.

"Do you want to be a secret agent?" asked Major Monogram.

The platypus nodded enthusiastically. Not that that was likely. He doubted that platypuses made good agents.

Strangely, Major Monogram looked a bit surprised. "You... You do? Great! Welcome to the agency!"

What?

The platypus sat in a stupor while the human explained what he'd be doing. He would be trained in many things, including various fighting techniques, vehicle manoeuvring, opera, and intellectual pursuits like reading and writing. Once he was able to stand on his hind legs like a human, he would be eligible for the more advanced classes that required human posture.

When he finished enough classes, he'd take a test to prove his skills. If he did well, he'd be a proper secret agent, with his own hat and lair.

The platypus was having trouble processing this. Him, a secret agent? He barely knew what was going on at the best of times. But if this Major Monogram human believed it was possible, then it was possible. He seemed to know what he was talking about.

.

After his orientation, Major Monogram gave him a map and told him he was free to go wherever he wanted until his first class. He'd know when it started because there'd be a loud noise.

The platypus walked alone through the corridor, staring around in awe. A tiger, a tapir, and a red panda pushed past him, and the platypus scuttled out of the way. They were huge.

For a long time, he just wandered, trying to familiarise himself with the layout of this place. He found the door to his room. There were other doors of different sizes nearby, which all seemed to lead into other animals' rooms. He quickly learned not to enter those without knocking. He also found some sort of dining room, and maybe a... bathroom? He wasn't certain.

The most interesting place was a large room, full of animals doing things he couldn't comprehend. At one end, there was a television. There were soft things like couches and cushions around it. Some animals were sitting or lying on them.

What really caught his attention was the big window on one side. It looked out into a blue room that contained something the platypus recognised immediately as a swimming pool.

He waddled over to it and pressed his bill against the glass. Whenever he saw a body of water on television, he'd spend the whole time it was on screen trying to figure out how to get in, only to remember that it wasn't real. He'd longed for the water as far back as he could remember.

There was the door. He nudged it open, rushed through, and stopped at the water's edge. It had a very strong, and not very pleasant smell, but it was clearlywater. After a moment's hesitation, the platypus took a breath, sealed his eyes, ears and nostrils, and jumped in.

He didn't know what to do for a second. He was blind, deaf, and unable to smell. His electrorecption was working better than ever, though. Normally it wasn't very useful, but the pool seemed to be teeming with electrical sources. That was strange. He hadn't noticed them when he'd jumped in.

He swum around for a while, feeling like he'd been born there. Finally, he had to breathe, so he paddled his front legs, broke the surface, and opened his eyes, ears, and nostrils.

Now he could see where the electricity was coming from. It was coming from the other animals in the pool. That was weird. He knew that living things gave off electricity, but he normally couldn't sense it unless it was very, very close. He wondered why it worked so much better in water.

Putting it out of his mind for now, the platypus dove down again. As he swam, all the techniques, like how to hold his breath, or paddle with his front feet, or steer with his back feet and tail, came to him like something he'd only forgotten. But he kept his first class in the back of his mind. How was he going to hear the loud sound if he was underwater with his ears closed?

He shouldn't have worried. The sound happened during a dive, and though he couldn't hear it, it made the water around him vibrate. The platypus jumped out of the pool, and headed off to class.


	3. Late

Although the platypus had only needed to take two swimming classes before he'd passed, there was never a day when he didn't use the pool. It relaxed him. It made him feel more like himself. He'd only even had to take more than one class because they'd made him use human techniques, like keeping his eyes open and using his legs to propel himself. It had been easy to get the hang of swimming the way they wanted him to, but all the same, he preferred to swim naturally when he could.

Today, keeping calm was particularly important. He had a math test. If he failed, he'd have to do all the math classes all over again, and he didn't want that. He hated math. He didn't think anybody liked it.

Reluctantly, the platypus climbed out the pool, nodding at an otter he was friendly with as he left the room. The otter didn't have a name. Nobody did, until they were assigned.

He entered the exam room. There were five other trainees who wanted to stop the classes as desperately as the platypus did. They looked at each other nervously.

The white-clothed human, who the platypus had learned was named Carl, was also in the room. He was there to make sure they didn't cheat. He gave out the tests and stuttered his way through all the test stuff that the platypus had memorised months ago.

Finally, they were allowed to start. The platypus looked at the first question.

_Write out the digits from 1 to 10, in numerical order_

That one was easy. It was just memorisation. The platypus wrote out the numbers as neatly as possible.

The really hard part was in the next set of questions.

The second question said _2 + 5 = ?_

The platypus took a deep breath. He just had to pass this test, and he'd be finished with this ridiculous waste of time and energy forever.

He looked at the symbols again. He knew what order they went in, and how they were read, but not the concepts they symbolised. He understood a single, and a double, and a many. He did not understand a five, and he did not understand how a double and a five could be combined into a third, unrelated number. He didn't understand how the technique he'd been taught made that number either, but he didn't need to. He just had to use it.

He counted on his fingers until he got to five, then counted to two on more fingers. Then he counted how many fingers he was holding up now. Seven. He wrote the number seven in the answer space.

So far, so good.

The next few questions were similar, though some had bigger numbers than others. Some even added up to above fourteen, which was the last number he could get to using the fingers of both hands and the toes of both feet. He had to do a lot of scribbling in the margins to complete those.

Finally, he came to the last question.

It was a word problem.

_If you have six apples, and your nemesis comes along and takes half, and you find one more apple on the ground, how many apples do you have?_

The platypus stared at the question for a long time. Eventually, he wrote the numeral "6" in the margins.

Half. Of six. This was really high level stuff. A half of a number was a number that made the original number by adding itself to itself. Not all numbers had a half. The platypus had no idea where to begin finding the answer to this one. He bowed his head in thought.

Numbers couldn't be made earlier by adding. He knew that. So... The half number was earlier than six!

Pleased with himself, the platypus wrote out all the numbers below six, and stared at them. Now what? He... He could go through them one by one and add them to themselves until he got six. But that would take forever.

But he couldn't think of any other way. Frowning, the platypus began adding the numbers to themselves. One plus one was two. Two plus two was four. Three plus three was... six!

The platypus wrote down the numeral 3 and sat back. Then he sat forward again. He'd forgotten about the rest of the question. Having three apples and picking up one was like three plus one. Three plus one was... Four!

There. It was all finished. He'd never have to do another math ever again. He put the test in his beak, walked down to the front, gave it to Carl, and made to leave.

"Uh... Can I talk to you for a second?" said Carl.

The platypus came back into the room, feeling curious.

Carl lowered his voice. "It's about the... the two legs thing."

The platypus didn't like where this was going. He knew it was important to be able to stand on two legs. He tried it every day.

Every day he failed.

"We're running out of classes to give you. You're gonna have to stand up soon," said Carl, pushing his glasses up his nose.

The platypus nodded to show that he understood, and tried to push himself upright. He'd just completed a math test, and he was reasonably confident that he'd even passed. He could do this.

He fell on his back.

Carl rushed to pick him back up even though he could right himself on his own. "The good news is, you're doing great! You wanna see your grade point average?"

The platypus didn't know what one of those was, and didn't really care. He trusted Carl's claim that he was doing well. Who would tell someone they were good at something when they weren't? It'd just make them complacent.

Without waiting for a response, Carl shoved a piece of paper into the platypus's face. "This is yours!" he said, pointing to one of the numbers on the sheet.

The platypus looked at it for a second. There was a number. Then there was a dot. Then there was another number. It didn't mean a lot to him. A small amount of one lesson had been spent on the concept of decimals, but he'd only been told how to use them in costs, and this number obviously wasn't a cost.

Carl was looking at him, so the platypus smiled weakly, pretending he understood.

"Make sure you stand up soon, okay?" said Carl.

The platypus nodded, and left the room. What would happen if he ran out of classes, he wondered. Would he fail? Would he be kicked out? What would he do? Would they give him a host family even though he hadn't finished his training, or would he have to cope on his own?

The platypus went back to his room to practice. Over and over, he tried to stand up. Over and over, he fell. It was impossible. But it couldn't be. They wouldn't give him an assignment that was impossible.

He concentrated as hard as he could, but it didn't seem to help much. Even when he leaned against a wall, he fell. He tried and tried to keep his balance, but he was far too top heavy to stay up for even a second.

He couldn't do it.

The platypus took a few deep breaths. Panicking never helped. It just made things worse. All he needed was a break. Sometimes when he took a break, he came back much better at whatever he was practicing at.

He reached for his CD player, which had been given to him as a reward for topping the class in ventriloquism, and put on one of his favourites, a bouncy song about having fun. He loved music. He loved it almost as much as swimming. If there'd been some way to listen to music while swimming underwater, he would have been the happiest platypus in the world.

All that rearing up had given him an idea for a new dance move. The platypus reared up, let gravity pull him back down, and reared up again, all in time to the beat.

He overbalanced a few times, but he soon got the hang of it. He had a lot of fun, rearing up and down and stepping around to the music.

Stepping?

The platypus fell on his back. What was that? Had he actually stood and walked without realising it? Was it possible after all?

Excited, he began dancing again, paying more attention to what he was doing. What had he done before...? He'd moved his tail! That was it! He'd held his tail... just like that.

He turned off the music and tried to stand again, without success. So, he could only do it when the music was playing. That was... disappointing.

If he could do it with the music, he could do it without the music. All he had to do was get his body used to the motions.

The platypus put the music back on and began practicing.

.

The platypus was almost always in one of the training rooms these days. When he wasn't eating, sleeping, or taking classes, he was training. His final test was tomorrow and he knew he wouldn't fail. He couldn't fail.

He dodged a few imaginary blows, then jumped up and slapped his tail on nothing. He liked that move. It would look better when he grew up and his tail got longer, he guessed. He'd never seen another platypus in the flesh, but he'd seen pictures of adult platypuses... platypi? English was a confusing language. Though the platypuses he'd seen hadn't been standing on two legs, so he still had no idea what he'd look like when he grew up.

Once he was satisfied with his fighting technique, he practiced swapping between four legs and two for a while. The posture was only part of it. He couldn't be on two legs and look relaxed, it was unprofessional. Humans thought he looked smarter when he focused his eyes, so he always did it when he concentrated.

And it felt weird to be relaxed, but not look it. Eye focusing was for concentration, eyes pointing in different directions were for relaxation. Anything else felt wrong.

He was getting good at switching, or so he hoped. It would be embarrassing if he got assigned and was immediately found out. He'd been told over and over that he was the best trainee they'd ever had.

Once he was satisfied with his switching, he headed for the recreation room. Maybe somebody wanted to spar with him. He usually won. If his opponent ever won, it was cause for congratulations and candy and other earned privileges. The platypus never got any candy for winning, but he didn't care. Winning was its own reward.

And he liked it when other trainees beat him, too. It reminded him that he wasn't invincible, and kept him from getting complacent. He'd seen enough movies and TV shows to know what happened to people who let their successes go to their heads.

He chattered as he entered the room. A solenodon who'd started at about the same time as him turned and waved.

The platypus waved back, fighting back an urge to rub his ankles to check if his spurs had come through yet. He checked every day now, but nothing ever changed. The solenodon had had venomous spit since the day he'd been born. The platypus was a bit jealous.

He knew that his spurs would be removed for safety reasons as soon as they developed, but he still wanted them to appear. It would mean that he was growing up.

The platypus chattered again and adopted a fighting pose, but nobody seemed interested in fighting him today. Most of the trainees were gathered around the television, watching some old science fiction movie.

The platypus sighed and turned away. He'd outgrown movies a long time ago. They weren't important. The only thing that mattered was to be the best he could be.


	4. Assignment

No matter how hard the platypus tried to relax, sleep wouldn't come. He was sure that he'd passed the final test. He knew he had. But... what if he hadn't? He'd stumbled and nearly fallen in the obstacle course, and he knew that he could have swum those laps faster. He'd actually forgotten to keep his eyes open at one point.

And the driving. He'd parked crooked. Still within the lines, but crooked.

And he'd been bluffing in poker. He hadn't even noticed that he had a straight.

And...

There was a knock at the door. The platypus chattered, and the door opened, revealing... Major Monogram?

Major Monogram? What was he doing there? Why would he come to the platypus's door? He didn't give out the test results personally. What had the platypus done? Had he done something wrong? Had he failed?

"Sorry to bother you, but..." began Major Monogram. He paused, and knelt down further to get a better view of the platypus's room. "Uh... Are you okay? You look kind of... You're hyperventilating. Is that healthy?"

The platypus controlled his breathing, smiled, and gave a thumbs up. Whatever the problem was, he'd face it with dignity.

"Well, you're probably wondering about your test results, you know, how you... did... Uh..."

So it was about the test. Had he failed? He'd failed, he knew it. He wished he hadn't taken so long to escape that barbed-wire cage.

Major Monogram shifted uncomfortably a few times, then said "Why don't we discuss this outside?"

The platypus nodded dully. Anything to put off the bad news.

Major Monogram withdrew, and the platypus followed him out to the hallway, and then to his office. He felt like pulling his fur out, for some reason. Just grabbing a tuft of fur in his bill and yanking it out.

"Okay, uh, take a seat," said Major Monogram when they got to his office.

The platypus sat down in one of the small animal sized seats. He never had figured out what to do with his tail, so he just sat on it. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was more comfortable than the other options.

"I've always said you were the best trainee to come through this facility," began Major Monogram.

The platypus nodded sadly. He was sorry to have disappointed him.

"And now we have proof!" continued Major Monogram, suddenly cheerful. "You got the highest score in the history of this institution!"

The platypus nodded sadly again, then realised what he'd heard and stared. He'd... passed?

And done _well_?

Major Monogram patted him on the head. "Congratulations... Agent P!"

The platypus stared.

Major Monogram wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry, I... I just get so choked up..." He handed the platypus a hat.

The platypus held it in his hands and turned it around a few times.

After a few seconds, Major Monogram said "You can put it on if you want."

The platypus snapped out of his reverie and looked at him.

"Go ahead, Agent P!" said Major Monogram. "I... wanna see how it looks on you."

Slowly, the platypus put the hat on his head.

Major Monogram inspected him. Then he coughed a couple of times and said "I'm... I'm sure you'll grow into it."

The platypus took the hat off again.

.

That night, he and the other newly qualified agents were taken to the assignment centre in a big van. As part of their cover, they had to travel in cages. Agent P was in a cat carrier. He didn't really care, but it did make it hard to see out the window. He craned his neck, trying to get the best view. He'd trained in driving many types of vehicles, but he'd never left the facility before.

He could see sky, dimly lit trees, and some buildings, but nothing else. He wanted to get out under that sky and go on a mission.

Dr Gatti drove, while Carl sat behind with the agents. He was supposed to spend the whole time briefing them, but he condensed the explanation down to thirty seconds and spent the rest of the ride asking if he could drive. He had a learner's permit now. He was responsible. He could drive, just this once.

The first time he brought it up, Dr Gatti said "You're not driving," and ignored him for the rest of the trip. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to get a response from her, Carl switched to annoying the agents about it.

"You think I should drive, right, Agent T?" said Carl. "What about you, Agent P?"

Agent P didn't react at all. He was practicing his relaxed look. The examiners had all complimented him on his "dumb animal impression", and while he wasn't sure if he should be offended or not, if they thought he looked dumb, his host family would think the same.

"Don't you think I'm mature and responsible enough to drive, Agent P?" Carl pressed.

That name was going to take some getting used to.

Carl reached into his coat pocket. "Look! I got a gold star on my tenth grade report card!" He shoved a sheet of paper into Agent P's face.

Agent P looked. Carl was right. It was a gold star. It was a good thing that he was so excited about being assigned, or Agent P would have been a bit annoyed. Carl had lived a lot of years and Agent P hadn't even lived one. Agent P should not have been the more mature one in this situation.

They arrived, and Carl began unloading the agents, still complaining that he should have been driving. Agent P got a cage on a floor. It was no larger than the cat carrier, and didn't look very comfortable, but if he was lucky he wouldn't be there for long. Unfortunately, that was all up to the humans who were coming to adopt them.

Agent P turned around and around, trying to find the best position for sleep. The assignments wouldn't start until the following morning because as he understood, Carl had to be home by ten. Finally, he sat down and closed his eyes.

.

He woke up to voices, and stood up on four legs. Where was-? He was going to be assigned! Excitedly, he stared out the clear door, remembering just in time to stay relaxed.

There were people in there. One of them was very young. She was holding a hamster and smiling.

Agent P was a little disappointed. Obviously he wouldn't be assigned to these people. Oh well. He couldn't expect to be assigned straight away.

He noticed that there was some food in the bowl next to him now, so he ate it pensively.

People came and went, and none of them gave him a second look. One young child pointed and yelled "what is that thing?" The kid's dad glanced at Agent P and said "I don't know. How about this one?". He pointed somewhere out of Agent P's view.

The place was run by a woman that Agent P had never seen before. Agent P wondered who she was, and if she knew that the rescue centre was a front. Surely she did. Wasn't Carl supposed to be running it? That's what Carl had said the night before, unless he'd misunderstood.

By the end of the day, Agent P still hadn't been adopted. He tried not to let it upset him. He wasn't the only one.

And then the woman took off her head.

It was Carl, wearing a woman costume. Agent P stared. He'd heard the woman talking. She had sounded very female. He had no idea how Carl had managed that.

"Okay, you can come out now!" said Carl.

Confused, but happy for a chance to stretch his legs, Agent P nudged open the door and walked out.

He stood there until a dog came up to him, growled, did a four legged bow, stood on two legs and adopted a fighting pose.

Agent P smiled. The dog wanted to spar. They'd fought before, and the dog beaten him a few times, but he wouldn't today. Not now that he was a full agent.

.

The second day was similar to the first. So was the third. Agent P was ignored, and occasionally pointed at. Nobody showed any serious interest. Agent P reminded himself to be patient, and reminded himself again. He'd find a host family. Eventually.

At the end of the third day, the amount of agents still to be assigned was dwindling dangerously. Carl came up and said "Don't worry, Agent P! We'll find a family for you soon!"

Agent P could tell that he was just saying that to make him feel better, but he smiled anyway.

.

The fourth day started like all the others. Nobody even looked at him, let alone showed any interest.

About an hour in, yet another family entered. Agent P looked them over. There were two adults and three children. One of the children, a girl, looked to be a preteen, and the other two, boys, were about preschool age.

To his surprise, the boys ran over to him. The shorter one said "Ferb! This one's looking at both of us at the same time!"

Agent P chattered. He could barely believe it. Somebody was interested in him. He couldn't make a single mistake.

Even Carl seemed surprised, but Agent P had noticed how quickly he'd come over when the young boys had shown interest.

One of the adults said that they'd take him, and Agent P had trouble not showing the relief on his face. He had a family to... He had a base to operate from.

"What would you even name a platypus?" demanded the girl.

"Bartholomew!" said the boys in unison. The taller boy had a strangely deep voice for such a young child.

Agent P chattered again. Bartholomew? It was an interesting name, he guessed. It had too many syllables in it. It made him sound more complicated than he was. Of course, he didn't have much say in it.

Once they were out of the building and onto the streets, the shorter boy, who was holding him, said "I'm Phineas, and this is my brother Ferb, and my sister Candace!"

Agent P chattered.

"Are you talking to it?" demanded the girl, Candace. "It's a platypus. It can't understand you."

Phineas looked at Candace. Then he looked back at Agent P. "He looks smart to me," he said.

"Let me say something to him," said Candace. She leaned down close to Agent P's carrier. "You're a stupid, smelly lump of... of stupidity and bad smells!"

"Candace!" said the woman that Aegnt P assumed was her mother, sounding shocked.

"What?" said Candace. "He is!"

"I don't know what you're mad about, but there's no reason to take it out on Bartholomew," the mother scolded her.

Agent P didn't particularly care what this girl thought of him. She was just a cover.

They got into a car and drove off. Candace didn't say anything more. Agent P wasn't an expert on children, but it looked like she was sulking.

Phineas kept talking all the way. He told Agent P all about his family, and how glad he'd been when his parents had got married, and how glad Ferb had been as well, because it meant they were brothers now. He told him all about a board game they were working on together, and all the rules they'd come up with for it, and how awesome it was going to be when it was finished. He told him how excited they were about starting school in the fall, and how many friends they were going to make.

Agent P started to feel a bit bad. This little boy was so excited about having a pet, and he'd got an undercover secret agent. He deserved a real pet. But what could Agent P do about it? He needed to live somewhere.

The car pulled up into the driveway of a house. Agent P looked at it with interest. He'd never been in a house before. Phineas carried him out, still talking, and took him inside.

It looked like a nice house. There was a couch that looked soft, and... No, he shouldn't think like that any more. He was a secret agent now. He had to stay serious.

He stood on the floor and chattered, unsure of what was expected of him. Phineas and Ferb stared at him.

"What do you think, Ferb?" said Phineas.

Ferb blinked.

"You're right, I don't think he is a Bartholomew," said Phineas. He looked at Agent P again.

Agent P chattered nervously.

"He's more of a..." said Phineas. "Wolfgang. No, a Perry! That's it! Perry! What do you think, Perry?"

Agent P chattered again. Perry. Well, he liked it better than Bartholemew. Not that it really mattered what name they knew him by.


End file.
